


Project Requiem

by Nelkere



Category: Original Work, Science Fiction - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 20:37:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16772476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelkere/pseuds/Nelkere
Summary: an old science fiction story of mine





	1. Chapter 1

_ “There's loyalty that protects secrets and loyalty that protects the truth. You cannot serve both masters, so which loyalty is yours, Satima?” _

She looked down at her feet, the blood crusting on her forehead. Her wrists burned from the shackles holding her to the chair. Despite her imprisonment, she felt a surge of satisfaction and freedom. Smirking, she raised her head and stared at the uniformed man before her, his hand near his waist. “Hm?”

“Where do your loyalties lay, Satima?” he asked again. This time, he punched her in the stomach, forcing her to wheeze in pain.

T’Lana simply stared up at him, “I serve… what’s right...”

“You misguided fool,” he sneered. “Who do you serve?”

Her throat burned as she drew in each breath. The taste of iron filled her mouth as pain throbbed throughout her body. Her vision slowly started to cloud. “N-not you… Ravinblood…”

The man hit her again and again, each blow bringing her closer to breaking. “Then who?! You’re friends are dead, your mutiny quelled. Who do you serve?” He grabbed her hair and pulled, forcing her head up.

A faint fire burned inside her clouding pupils, the strange patterns in her eyes moving rapidly. She forced out a few last words before succumbing to the darkness, “Not... not you …”

Seeing her body go limp, the man let go of her hair and walked away, sneering. “Take that bitch to the brig. At the next colony, drop her.”

“Yessir,” a soldier standing guard saluted Ravinblood as he exited the chamber.


	2. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story begins

"Who ya lookin for?" a coy, rasping voice drawled.

The reporter, jolted from her thoughts, looked up at the man in front of her. She dropped her tablet in her hands and it landed with a thud and a cloud of dust. While not tall, the man had an imposing presence; the shovel half- propping him up didn't help.

Wiping sweat from her brow, the reporter stuttered out a few words, barely able to make a coherent sentence.

"I-I'm l-looking for s-someone," she said nervously, slightly intimidated by him.

Leering a yellow tooth smile, the man repositioned himself. "Well, obviously. Not many come 'ere unless they're felons, or they're looking for someone," he smiled. "So, who is it? Me?"

"N-no. Sorry," she said sheepishly, backing away from him to get on with her task. She shifted her stance and started to walk further into the settlement, but he blocked her way.

"Oh well, sweetie. I don't mind," he said, disappointed. He paused and asked, "Then who are you lookin' for? I might be able to 'elp you."

"Really?" she asked, her hope rising. "You can help me?"

"Sure I can," he laughed. "There ain't a soul 'ere I don't know, though there's some I wish I could forget."

"Thank you…"

"Call me James. Everyone else does."

"Oh... ok, James," she blushed. "Thank you."

"Well then," James sighed, leveling his shovel onto his shoulders, "shall we?"

"Yes. Please, lead the way," she bent down and picked up her fallen tablet, dusting it off before shoving it into one of her pockets, not noticing his eyes following her down and fixing on her chest.

He led her towards the center of the settlement, or "Hell's Ass," as he told her the others called it. Her eyes searched the windows and doors they passed, keenly aware of the crowd gathering behind her. Every so often, James would look back and smirk, as though she didn't notice them.

When they finally reached the town square, James halted. The reporter looked around, wide-eyed at the assembled group. James placed his hand on her shoulder, and leaned forward, his sour breath filling her senses as she inhaled. "So, why are you really 'ere? What do you want?" he purred.

With fear crashing back in, the reporter trembled slightly and stammered out a reply, "I-I'm looking for s-someone..." She blushed and looked around frantically, hoping that someone would help. The crowd murmured and drew in closer; no one noticed the figure pushing through them.

James leaned in closer, grabbing her blouse by the collar and lifted her off the ground, ignoring the tears forming along it, his face close to hers. "Well, you found them. And you're stuck with them, sweetheart."

"Let me go!" she squealed, a hysterical note in her voice as she struggled, trying to get away. She felt her foot touch his shin and drew her leg back, sweeping it forward and kicking him hard. James dropped her, grunting in pain as he held his leg.

"You bitch!" He watched as she struggled off the ground and stood up, dust covering her clothing and smearing her makeup. He grabbed hold of her hair as she tried to flee, relentlessly tearing at it, and as tears started forming in her eyes as she was turned to face him, he screamed, "What the f*** is wrong with you?!"

"L-let go of me you bastard! It hurts!"

He grinned ever so repugnantly, and drove his fis into her gut, forcing the air from her lungs. With bile rising in her throat, she screamed in agony. He threw her to the ground, spitting on her as clouds of dust billowed up around her. She breathed raggedly, pain coursing through her body like poison with every heave of her chest.

Sighing with mock weariness, James reached behind his back, pulling a knife from a sheath on his back. Smirking evilly, he pulled the reporter closer and raised his hand. The reporter closed her eyes tightly, expecting another strike.

The blow never came. She didn't feel the bite of the knife as it sunk into her flesh, didn't feel her body jerk from the swing of his hand. Didn't feel her clothing become wet with blood. Only the light breeze rustling through the trees.

James pulled hard on his arm, trying to dislodge his wrist from the hand that had suddenly wrapped around it. "Hey! Let me kill this bi-" He stopped talking as he turned his head to the figure behind him. His face paled. Around them, the crowd fell silent and drew away, going back to their previous businesses.

Behind him, a woman glared, her face partially obscured by her black hair, the sweet scent of amaranth seeming to emanate from her. Despite the intense heat, she wore a thick, intricately woven scarf around her neck that covered her chin. Her electric blue eyes seemed to bore through him and into his soul, extinguishing any fight he had within him. "Again, James? You do know what I told you last time, right?" her voice, while serious, reflected the darkness swimming in her eyes. "Now, drop the knife and leave. I don't want to see your face around here again, you hear me?"

Reluctantly, James let go of the knife, watching it fall, its pock marked blade glinting red in the sun. "Yes, T'Lana," he mumbled.

"Hmm? Did you say something?" she wrenched his arm back sharply, sending a dagger of pain to his shoulder.

"Augh!" he screamed, his face contorting in pain as she smiled coldly and jerked his arm furiously backwards.

"Now, what were you saying?"

"Y-yes, miss T'Lana. I'll leave now. Just let go of my arm," he forced out loudly.

"If you say so," she pulled one last time, dislocating his shoulder with a sickening crack. James bellowed in agony, pushing himself away from the women and tripping over his own feet. Regaining his balance, he ran. He ran into the trees, and soon was swallowed by their dark shadows, his shovel forgotten among the rocks in the square. T'Lana turned her attention back to the reporter, who managed to prop herself against a large boulder, cradling her chest, whimpering softly. T'Lana walked towards her and knelt down in front of her. "Let me take a look. How bad does it hurt?"

The reporter looked into her eyes as T'Lana slowly loosened her arms "W-what are you doing?"

"I'm just taking a look. James likes to play rough with people, and I'm left with with cleaning up the messes," T'Lana chuckled softly. "Pretty ironic, eh? Considering what got me here."

"What did you do?" the reporter looked at her curiously.

Ignoring the question, T'Lana picked her up and slowly carried her away from the square. "I'll tell you when we get to my place. You need to rest and recover."


	3. The Scar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the interview begins

After laying the reporter down and making sure she was comfortable, T'Lana stitched and bandaged up her wounds. "Wait here. I'll be back in a moment." She smiled before disappearing into the hallway. The reporter looked around the room. Dimly lit, blacked out images populated the mantle, books –old and new –were strewn about the floor and on an antique desk. Incense smoldered next to a bust of some Old Earth idol, the smoky scent hanging heavily over the room.

Down the hall, T'Lana was preparing a tray: two cups with tea leaves at their bottom, sugar, cream, and an empty pot. After waiting for water to boil on her ancient, wood burning stove, she poured it into the pot and tenderly carried the tray back into the room, clearing off the table in front of the reporter. She set the tray down quietly and poured the water into both cups, offering one to the reporter. She gave no inclination that she was aware of the reporter's eyes following her every movement, studying her.

Sitting down in a plush chair across from her, T'Lana sipped her drink, letting the warm fire spread through her body. "So, what brings you here? Even though we don't have weapons, penal colonies are some of the worst places to be. Aside from the front lines, that is."

The reporter giggled, her voice at odds with her injuries. "Believe it or not, I was looking for you."

"Oh me? Why?" T'Lana blushed, flattered but unsettled. "What's so special about me?"

"You are Colonel T'Lana Satima, correct? Formerly known as the 'Beautiful Sorrow'?"

T'Lana swallowed hard, alarmed that the name found her even here. "Formerly. Not anymore. Now I'm just T'Lana Satima, Prisoner I.D. 572R7193271A. And you are?"

"Oh. Uhm, I'm Collette Avier. Core Systems News Service." She offered her delicate hand over the table to T'Lana, half pulling herself out of the couch. "A pleasure to meet you," Collette grinned.

She shook Collette's hand firmly, letting go and sitting back into her chair. "So, what about me made you come here?" she swirled the liquid in her cup, watching as the contents rose and fell rhythmically, waiting for a reply.

"Just some questions," Collette smiled serenely. "I want to know why someone who had such a bright future disappeared off the face of the Empire when everyone was watching her in the conflict against the Uprising, only to reappear months later on a prison planet."

T'Lana stared at her, shocked. Her mind when blank. She felt numb. Her jaw clenched and unclenched as she tried to get a hold of herself. "I-I don't want to talk about it. It's not something that I feel comfortable discussing…"

Gesturing to her bandages, Collette replied, "As you can see, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. And I'm not leaving until I get that story." Collette chuckled to herself, her gaze passing through T'Lana, making her squirm slightly. "And I  _ will _ get that story. One way or another."

"I'm assuming I don't have a choice, or you'll make my life a living hell until I do tell, right?"

Collette smiled, glad that T'Lana understood. "Correct."

T'Lana let her gaze drift back to her shaking cup.  _ Another person who wants to use me. Fuck. Why do they all want to know about then?  _ She swallowed hard, thinking over the options.  _ On one hand, if I don't tell, she won't leave. I could...  _ She shook her head.  _ No, you left that life behind you after Pax _ …"

Collette's voice interrupted her thoughts. "I'm waiting."

T'Lana sighed and shifted in her seat. After a period of silence, she spoke. "Fine. I'll tell you. But" she raised a finger, "This cannot leave here."

Collette smirked, "Deal."

"I'll have to start at the very beginning, before I even joined the military. What I did before then led to my actions there."

"By all means, do begin."

T'Lana scowled at her and sat in silence for a few minutes, gathering her thoughts before starting, the already dim lighting seeming to get dimmer. "As a child, I lived with my mor –mother– and søster– sister– Veni, in the outskirts of Kerkenes, Norway. It wasn't a luxurious life, but we managed to get by better than most. It was just her, my mother, and I, until Veni moved out,."

"Where was your father?"

"I never had a father. But every so often—about once a month—my mother had a new boyfriend. I think she pushed herself to find someone who would be a good father figure for us, but she always found some flaw in them that made her break it off. Despite that, we lived a happy life, just the three of us. Then Veni got engaged, and she left. It's not that we were mad at her for it, but life at the house soon got... difficult. Mother shut herself inside her room for most days, leaving me to explore the halls and land surrounding it. Oftentimes, I would end up following one of the servants around, helping them with their duties, but even they too began to leave, slowly, one by one over the next year."

"But where did they go? Do you at least know what they are doing?"

"I don't." T'Lana paused, as if remembering them, a ghost of a smile crossing her face. "Some of them probably built better lives for themselves and their families. Others, well, let's just say they most likely found free room and board."

"You poor thing. Were you sad to see them leave?"

"Some of them, yes; but not all. I tended to choose favorites back then. I'd like to think of them as my friends- I had so few of them."

"Why?"

"My mother tended to be… protective… of us. We rarely, if ever, left the property. She always muttered something about dangerous people beyond the gates whenever we asked if we could go out. She almost never went places, preferring to stay in her room and sew or paint, alone."

T'Lana smiled softly as she talked about her mother, remembering the past days. She trailed off into a light whisper after a little bit, sitting silently in her chair. She gazed down into her cup, the dark abyss of the tea seeming to envelop her. Collette sat up in her chair, unsure of whether or not to speak up, afraid to break the looming quiet. Finally, T'Lana resumed her story, her voice shaking.

"Mom never did like to go outside. And other than a few weak excuses she gave us to keep us from going out past the property lines, she never said why."

"You mentioned that your sister got married. What happened with that?"

"Mom and I got closer. We were happy at first, Veni visited a lot," T'Lana smiled again, a tear forming in her eye. "But then that day happened," T'Lana fell silent again, this time she didn't continue on, letting her last line hang in the air.

Collette set her cup down and shifted in the couch as she pulled her tablet out. She groaned when she saw its cracked screen, shards of plasteel dangling from it by strands of microfilament. Dropping the ruined object to the carpet, she turned her attention to T'Lana and cocked her head. "What day? What happened?"

Slowly, T'Lana unwrapped her scarf, revealing more and more of her neck with each breath, stopping only when she uncovered a large, ancient scar running from one side of her neck to the other. Collette covered her mouth and stared. "W-what happened?"

"I was about nine. I was in one of the rearward rooms, playing, when I heard a loud noise. I ran to see what it was, and saw my mother. She was being held against a wall by her neck. She could barely breathe. The person holding her had a knife in his hand."

"What did you do?"

"I ran at him, of course. My mother yelled at me to stay away, but I didn't listen. I wanted to help her, so I ran." T'Lana tried to hide her growing tears, her hands shaking and rising to her neck as she continued. Some scars never went away "I tried to pull him away from her. He kicked me away and swung the knife at me, slitting my throat…" By now, her hand had reached the scar, covering it.

Collette stared wide eyed in horror at T'Lana, swallowing hard. In a shaking voice, she asked, "W-what happened next? A-after he cut you?"

Again T'Lana fell silent, her eyes blank and seeing only distant memories. Collette coughed, trying to get her attention, looked around at the covered pictures around the room, wondering who was in them and why they were covered. "Miss T'Lana?" Collette asked quietly. "Are you ok? Miss T'Lana?"

Quietly, barely a whisper, T'Lana spoke, one line, repeated over and over. "Jeg beklager, jeg kunne ikke redde deg. Jeg beklager. (I'm sorry, I couldn't save you. I'm sorry.)" Her shoulders shook as her sobs wracked her body, steadily growing louder. "Jeg beklager."

Eventually T'Lana calmed down, and sniffed. Taking one end of her scarf, she wiped away her tears. "Sorry. I'm not usually like that," she forced out a weak smile.

Collette peered at her, concerned. "We can stop if you want. The last thing I want is to reopen old wounds."

"No. it has to be said," she said firmly. She reached for her cup again, her hands shaking as they brought it to her lips.

"If you say so... When you're ready"

Once she had gotten control of her breathing, T'Lana continued, voice breaking with pain. "After he sliced through my throat, he kicked me again, sending me flying across the room. When I fell, I couldn't breathe or move. I could only watch my mother struggling to escape the man as my blood pooled around me. The man took the knife and, while still choking my mother, licked some of the blood off the blade before he plunged it into her chest and ripped her open. She screamed in agony for only a moment and he….laughed, while I was dying on the floor, while my mother lay dead. I remember her eyes staring at me... empty. I swear that for a moment they held everything; fear, horror, anger, regret... sadness. And then, it was gone. As I fought for breath, as I clung desperately to life- even though I'd lost so much blood, I dragged myself towards her." T'Lana's voice cracked as she held more tears. "But he wasn't done with her, or me..."

Struck by the notion, Collette cautiously inquired, "What... what do you mean 'he wasn't done?'" She had a bad feeling growing in the pit of her stomach.

"He...violated her. Humiliated me. He desecrated my mother and our home. And he made me watch as he did it. He laughed. He wouldn't let me look away. If I did, he would only hurt her more. When he was finished, he strolled through the house, smearing blood on the walls; singing and laughing like a maniac stopping to stare at certain items before breaking them on the floor. While he played, I continued to make my way to Mother, risking making any noises in hopes he would forget us. I had finally reached her and wrapped myself around her as best as I could- mind you, by then I could barely feel anything but the cold. I was too tired and dizzy to notice that he stood watching me. Eventually, I realized he was there, only when he thrust his boot into the back of my head and cackled, merrily, 'Just like your mother. Now go join her, you little bitch.' I passed out, his voice ringing deafeningly in my ears.

"When I came to, I was in a bed, in a white room. My neck was covered and locked in a brace, and I had a tube down my throat, forcing me to breathe, although somewhat limitedly. Every so often, a person in white would come in and poke and prod me like I was some animal. Eventually, the tube came out. One time, however, someone who wasn't in white entered and asked me questions."

"What kinds of questions?"

"Things like 'What my name was', 'Where I lived', 'Who I lived with', 'Who my family was'."

Collette smiled softly, relaxing. "So it was a police officer?"

"If that's what you call politimann here, then yes." T'Lana nodded. "They came every day, never for more than an hour- the white coats always forced them out when I got tired. But I knew that even then they were waiting sentinel outside, their eyes watching everyone like a hawk."

"Do you know why?" Collette asked, intrigued by her story. "Did any family try to visit you?"

"My mother was murdered, I almost died, why wouldn't they stay?" T'Lana spat out harshly. "And yes, family came. By then, however, I was able to move around without worrying about the hospital staff getting alarmed."

"Your sister Veni, did she come?"

"Yes, along with her husband, but she was the only one allowed in." Yet again T'Lana smiled, wider this time, her eyes glowing. "It was about as happy a reunion it could be- Mom was dead and I almost died too."

"Why wouldn't it be happy? You just got to see your sister again," Collette paused and poured more water into her cup, adding cream to it, "Was there something bad that happened during her visit?"

"No, but I was a mess. One minute I'm staring out the window, squinting from the glare. Then I hear the officers talking- loudly- to someone and the door opens with the voice who was arguing with the officers saying, 'T'Lana kjære? Er du her inne? Det er meg, Veni (T'Lana dear? Are you in here? It's me, Veni)."

"I take it you were happy that she was there, that you weren't surrounded by strangers?"

"Yes, and no. I wanted her to be here so I wouldn't be alone, but I also didn't want to be reminded that I lived while our mother died, that God had been cruel to us and taken away the only person we loved." T'Lana let her eyes drift to a large painting behind Collette, staring at the figure in the middle cradling a small bundle while a little girl hung from her shoulders.

Collette turned in her seat, following T'Lana's gaze, and gasped in surprise. The figure looked like a replica of T'Lana. Her hair was tinted dark pink and fell past her shoulders, her face soft, her eyes seeming to follow every movement in the room, her ruby lips curled into a soft smile. Below the picture, a plaque read: 'I kjærlig minne Annette D. Sjunnesson. Borte, men ikke glemt. Vi kommer til å savne deg, mamma (In loving memory of Annette D. Sjunnesson. Gone but not forgotten. We miss you, mom).' "Is that… is that her?" she breathed.

"Yes," T'Lana stood and walked slowly towards the picture, gently placing her hand to it. "It was taken when I was still a baby…"

"She's beautiful."

Silence. Then, "Thank you." T'Lana stepped unsteadily to the door and opened it before turning back to Collette. "Please excuse me. There are some things that I must do." Then she walked outside, leaving Collette alone in the house…


	4. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this contains some (bad) norwegian

Hours later, the two were back in the room eating in the dying rays of the sun. They continued talking.

"….How did your sister take the news that you enlisted?"

Smiling wryly as she sipped some water, T'Lana answered. "She took my joining the Core Systems Ground Assault Forces about as well as anyone could. I mean, I had signed my life away to an organization that would undoubtedly be sending me to the Badlands to fight and die. Don't get me wrong, she was happy I had found my purpose in life, but she didn't want her little baby sister- someone she practically raised after Mom died- going off to fight and die on some gudsforladt (Godforsaken) world for some bullshit cause that might not even be worth it."

"Not worth it? But I've heard that the Skriver War was going well for the Core. Is that not true?"

"At the time they were, but when I enlisted, we were losing ground. Whole systems were falling, and we were on the brink of fighting a rebellion. Didn't you hear about the fall of the Jos System Garrison?"

Collette swallowed hard. "Jos? Wasn't that system a forward outpost?"

"Was. Not anymore. Not a single person escaped. We thought it would be impossible to lose it, the people there were tough as they come. Only the vets- the ones with nothing left to lose, at least- were sent there. But a week in to my training, we got a distress signal from them."

Collette stopped eating, looking at T'Lana in shock. "You were sent out after only a week?"

"No. but our training kicked in to overdrive. You've heard the old phrase 'Hell Week', haven't you?"

Collette nodded. "Archaic military term for a week of hard training designed to flesh out the weaker personnel and make the remaining recruits tougher."

T'Lana smiled. "It was that times twenty. At the end, we were all battle hardened, tougher than the vets at Jos." T'Lana waved her hands about her in emphasis, her eyes alive with fire.

"Didn't you say that those at Jos were tough as they came?"

"They were. But what we went through during training; all the hazing, all the combat exercises, live fire scenarios, hand to hand combat- the beatings, we became Jos' essence."

"I mentioned before that I had read your file," Collette stated. "It says that you were posted on a siege cruiser by the name of Guds Hånd. Yet you say that you were ground forces. How can that be?"

T'Lana chuckled again. "Yes, I was posted on the Hånd, but that was only for transport. Members of the CSGAF need to have someone fly them to battle; otherwise we would be simple planetary guard. The Hånd was the hive, we were the bees. While we weren't prepping for ground assaults, we were manning the ship's guns and turrets."

"Back to Jos. How did you know that you were tougher than the Garrison there?"

T'Lana's demeanor shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly. "After our training, we were sent to Jos to inspect the outpost and provide aid if we needed to. It took a week at max speed, and the scout ships sent out before us hadn't reported back, so we didn't know the exact situation. Along with our unit, Command sent a battalion of light infantry and two teams of mortars."

"About how many total were sent?"

"Roughly three thousand. Including support units."

"What did you find when you reached the System?" Collette breathed, her heart thudding in her chest, her eyes wide.

"First, we saw our scout ships, or at least, what was left of them. Then we hailed the surface of the main planet and got nothing, so we launched our landing craft."

"What did you see? When you landed, that is."

"Smoke. Its acrid scent clung to everything. We went further, trying to find some sign of the garrison. After a few hours, we found our sign. We had just reached the walls of one of the settlements when we saw the first body. As we went further in, the dead started piling up. I lost count exactly of how many we passed, how many burned bodies, how many faces frozen in horror in their last moments, how many blown out buildings. The carnage was unlike anything we'd seen before."

Collette squirmed slightly, dropping her food as her face turned pale, her body growing cold. "There were no survivors? Not even one?"

"None. Just the veil of death that shrouded the settlement and stalked us from the shadows…"

"Why do you say death stalked your group?"

T'Lana replied coolly, her face expressionless, her eyes staring out into the distance, "Because something was following us, taking the rearward units in silence. Whatever it was, it was good at killing. The only way we found out that we were being hunted was an alert we got from the Hånd, but by then we had lost 200 soldiers."

"That many? What did you do after you found out that you were being 'hunted'?"

T'Lana smirked, "What do you think? We split into small groups of ten and spread out. If the thing hit one group, we would know. After all, it only attacked one at a time- so we thought. We searched the settlement for hours, but came up with nothing, so HQ called us back for rest and relaxation. My group was delayed due to a lieutenant's… mishap."

Collette's eyebrow perked up. "What do you mean by mishap? What happened to him?"

"Nothing. He just disturbed some rubble and we had to dig him out."

"Ah," Collette laughed with relief. "Ok, so you and your group finally get back to the base, and I'm guessing you file reports, record losses, eat, and turn in? Correct?"

"Correct. However, about an hour after lights out, I got awakened by a scream and someone shaking me. It was that same lieutenant, only this time, he was scared. Still bleary eyed and groggy, I ordered him to tell me what was happening. Before he could, though, a large spike was forced through his back, covering me in blood as I watched the life drain from his eyes, fear frozen on his face."

Collette gazed into T'Lana's eyes, wondering about the horrors she had been through, wondering what kind of person T'Lana had been before. As if on cue, T'Lana averted her eyes and resumed speaking.

"The thing that killed him withdrew the spike and let his corpse fall to the floor. I should have reached for my rifle, but I couldn't. I just sat there, stiff with shock and fear, looking from his body and the figure."

"Sorry," Collette interrupted, "but was the thing that killed him a...?"

Nodding slowly, almost painfully, T'Lana replied. "Yes. The Skriver held me in its gaze for a few minutes before it stepped into my quarters. It pulled its spike from the lieutenant's corpse and wiped his blood onto the wall. It searched the room with its eyes before settling them on me again. And, it… spoke."

Collette rose one eyebrow. "Spoke? What do you mean? I thought Skriver didn't speak?"

"Oh they speak, just not like you and I."

"What do you mean?"

T'Lana started to click her tongue, the series of pops progressively growing and slowing in speed for a minute before she relaxed back into her chair. "Like that. Those... things... speak like insects. And they look like them, too.

"Anyways, I had finally started moving again; however, it wasn't me that was in control. The Skriver did something to take over my body, and for a moment I could see everything it saw, exactly as it saw. And you know what? I was afraid. Not afraid of dying- I had accepted that inevitability after Mom had died. No, I was afraid because it was a repeat of then. Again, I was helpless. Again, I had to watch as someone died in front of me. Again, I had failed to protect someone."

"It's not your fault. Neither of you saw it coming."

"That doesn't mean a damn thing to me. I saw two people get killed before my eyes -one within my grasp- and I couldn't do anything to help them. Do you know what that's like? To be helpless as others die?" T'Lana's voice rose, her eyes seeming to alight with sorrow and fury.

Collette shrank in her seat slightly. "You were in war. You can't save everyone…"

T'Lana launched from her seat, sending it crashing backwards. "I was nineteen! I had to watch my mother get murdered in front of me when I was nine! Do you think I gave a damn that I couldn't save everyone?! I swore on Mother's grave never to let anyone else die because of me. Men ti år senere, er jeg tvunget inn i samme situasjon som da. Du har ingen rett til å selv si at jeg ikke kan redde alle. Du gjør en leve av å skrive om ting. Jeg gjorde meg av å beskytte andre! Hvorfor ikke prøve å bli satt hvor jeg var? Du ville prøve å gjøre nøyaktig hva jeg gjorde!

(But ten years later, I'm forced into the same situation as then. You have no right to even say that i can't save everyone. You make a living off of writing about things. I made mine off protecting others! Why don't you try being put where I was? You would try to do exactly what I did!)"

Collette stared at T'Lana in shock and fear as T'Lana continued on her tirade in a foreign language. Swallowing hard, she slowly stood up and back away, hoping that T'Lana wouldn't notice her. By now, T'Lana was screaming, her face red, the veins in her neck throbbing.

T'Lana turned, focusing her fury at Collette. "Kom deg ut nå. Jeg ønsker ikke å selv se deg igjen. Forlate. Nå. (Get out. I don't want to even see you again. Leave. Now.)" she pointed to the door and watched as Collette reluctantly walked out of the house. As she left, Collette could hear items being thrown against one of the walls, shattering upon impact.

Inside, T'Lana's house was ruined. The previously covered pictures lay on the floor and across the room, crumpled and broken. The dish ware, still laden with food, lay in a shattered mess at the foot of the table. Below the portrait of her mother, T'Lana sat, huddled and sobbed, her chest heaving.

Days later, Collette stood at the foot of the hill on which T'Lana's house was built. She placed her hand on the post that marked the beginning of the property and gazed at the place before turning away and walking towards her shuttle. As she walked away, T'Lana opened the door and watched Collette until she disappeared.

Back at her shuttle, Collette sent a communiqué. "Avier here. Codename Diamond has been reached. Based on my previous investigation, I recommend further contact before deciding their usefulness. Subject seems to be burdened by guilt over a multitude of things from the past. Also, the other… inhabitants seem to be afraid of her. Course of action to take, sir?"

After a few seconds, a gravelly, decidedly male voice responded. "Continue to observe. Attempt to dig further. Subject's usefulness must be confirmed. As for the other inhabitants, they are of no concern. Once Diamond's usefulness has been determined, the inhabitants are to be considered expendable. Our only concern is Diamond. I do not have to impress upon you her importance is in the endgame."

"Yessir. Avier out." Collette terminated the link...


	5. Buried memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little darker than the others, dealing with traumatic memories

_ T'Lana crouched behind the fallen trees with Luca. She knew the grenades were strong, but she didn't think they could vaporize half her platoon and shatter trees fifty feet from their origin, nor that they would deafen everybody. The blast itself scared off any wildlife nearby; giving the battalion a better chance at fighting whatever was hunting them. _

_ Already, these monsters had overrun dozens of systems, enslaving billions of citizens. They had even managed to strike Terra, carving large swathes of death and destruction into the once beautiful core world. Now they were attacking one of the CSTE's forward outposts, Jos. When she had heard the distress signal during a training run, she volunteered to be sent there to aid the garrison in fighting these… things. She had not seen one of their attackers since she made planetfall, but the vets still alive kept speaking in hushed tones, "The Skriver are back." She was shaken by the wounds and bodies she saw as her unit marched towards the Garrison's base early on, but her determination and thirst for battle pushed her on at an almost suicidal pace. Only after several days of repeating this was she finally ordered to the barracks for rest. _

_ The Lieutenant's shaking voice as he called roused her from her restless sleep, shouts and screams outside perforating the air."Ma'am, we have to move. Now." _

_ Shaking her head clear, she sat up and looked at him. "What is it now, Lieutenant?" _

" _ Ma'am, we're under attack. We have to go." _

" _ Who's attacking us?" T'Lana covered herself with her blanket as she started to reach for her clothing. _

" _ It's them. The Skr-" His sentence halted as he screamed in agony from the bony spike protruding from his chest, painting T'Lana's face red as his blood sprayed from him. He haltingly reached for the spike, trying to tear it from his body. T'Lana froze, staring into his increasingly blank eyes, seeing the fear etched into his gaze as his life ebbed away. _

_ The creature behind him threw his lifeless corpse to the floor, pulling its blade from his chest, never tearing its cold, insectoid gaze from T'Lana. Only her rapid breaths, pierced by the increasingly deafening gunfire, filled the room. _

_ Slowly the creature stepped inside the doorway. T'Lana tried to move backwards, one hand holding the blanket across her breast, the other searching for her rifle. For what seemed like an eternity, she saw herself through its eyes, saw how it viewed her. Her body was a warm orange glow fading to yellow around the edges. The Room around her shone bright as day. Everything it saw was brilliant. Everything, but her scar, mottled and black in its eyes. When she- it- leveled its gaze on the ugly, black wound, a flood of her memories poured into its mind. The creature shook its head as it staggered backwards from the onslaught of images, severing their link. _

_ Trembling, T'Lana watched as the Skriver stepped further into the room, smearing the Lieutenants' blood onto the walls as it stretched its clawed hand towards her, its head cocked to the side. Again, she tried to back away, terrified. It dropped its hand and clicked its mandibles together rhythmically for a moment before opening its maw. _ _   
_ _ T'Lana closed her eyes, expecting for the Skriver to sink its fangs into her flesh, but instead, it chittered towards her and inside her mind, and she understood it. It spoke not unkindly, but rather sympathetically to her as it backed away from the room and disappeared back into the night. _


	6. Buried memories pt 2

T'Lana woke with a start, sweat beading on her brow from the restless night, her heart pounding. Looking out the bedroom window, the sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon, heralding the new day. Sighing in relief and dismay, she let herself fall back into the bed. Placing a hand to her forehead, she groaned. "Not again."

Slowly, she crawled out of bed and stumbled to the shower. Turning on the head, she sat under the scalding water and let it beat on her skin, relieving the stress from the night. Her previously neat hair fell over her face, blinding her. Her breath grew ragged as she fought to keep her mind from the thoughts of death that flashed through her mind. She started to feel weightless, as if she was no longer in her body.

Breathing raggedly, she drove her fists into her temples in an attempt to force away the images filling her head. "S-stop it," she groaned as the images grew stronger. Again, she drove her fists into her throbbing temples, but still the images came. Reality and nightmare slowly blended together as she crumpled to the floor of the shower. As she writhed, she tasted blood in her mouth. "P-please, no more…"

***

Collette rapped her knuckles lightly on the door to T'Lana's home. "Hello? Miss T'Lana? Are you there?" she turned the knob and the door swung in, revealing the extent of the chaos T'Lana had made when Collette had first met her. Stepping gingerly over some broken glass as she entered, Collette heard the shower and headed up the stairs to T'Lana's room, the parcel in her hand held firm.

Entering the room, Collette set the parcel on the pristine bed before resuming her search for the house's missing occupant. "T'Lana?" Collette heard a moan come from the bathroom, steam billowing from the cracked door. As she neared the door, the moans grew louder. "T'Lana? You in there?" her voice started to shake with each step. Upon opening the bathroom door, Collette balked. T'Lana lay in the shower, water beating down on her as she scraped along her arm, her nails digging and carving deep gashes along its length. The blood, mixing with the hot water as it seeped down the drain, was a purplish hue. All the while, T'Lana kept dragging her nails along her arm and moaning in pain.

Collette rushed into the shower and dragged T'Lana from it. She wrenched her hand from her arm to stop her self-mutilation. She pulled down a towel and wrapped it tight around the wound, staunching the flow of blood. Grunting, she continued to drag T'Lana away from the shower; into the bedroom, lifting her onto the bed.


	7. Help

T'Lana was lost in a nightmare. She could hear footsteps- hers- as she strode through a strange white pillared corridor, knives in her hands. Before her stood people, armed to the teeth and waiting for a chance to kill. Behind them cowered civilians. They weren't afraid of the soldiers; rather, they were afraid of her. Rage built up inside of her. She hated them, hated what they were part of.

She raised the knives as she drew closer, each step echoing the forthcoming end of lives. With each step, the soldiers raised their rifles. With each breath, the fear in the civilians' eyes grew. With each click of the soldiers' safeties, her rage built. Finally, she stood in the midst of the soldiers, their guns aimed at her chest. The lead man spoke, "Drop the weapons or we'll shoot."

She smiled. Her grip tightened on the knives' handles s her eyes flashed to purple before she lunged at the man, burying the twin blades in his gut. Instantly the others turned their weapons and one cried out, "Captain!" She smirked again and spun around, using the man's body as a shield as the remaining soldiers opened fire, their rounds thudding into his corpse and spraying blood in a fine mist.

When the first clip clattered to the floor, T'Lana shoved her former shield into the closest soldier, knocking him back as she charged, running the knives through his arm and neck. A gurgle escaped him and he too fell. Before the others had a chance to reload, she moved to the next man, downing him in a similar manner, repeating this until only one was left. She took a step forward when he fired, the bullet slamming into her shoulder and knocking her off her balance. She winced and snarled as she fell backwards, her gaze turned upwards to the immaculately carved ceiling.

Her vision went white when she impacted, long enough for the lone man to walk towards her and shove the hot muzzle of the barrel against her cheek. She groaned in shock and blinked to get rid of the stars, clearing the haze. The soldier spat, "Say your prayers, you fucking monster," tightening his finger around the trigger. Instinctively, T'Lana gripped the barrel and shoved it aside as she rose, baring her teeth as she lunged towards his throat, clamping down hard. He tried to cry out, but only an empty breath escaped. T'Lana bit down harder, his iron blood filling her mouth as she twisted and pulled away, tearing out part of his throat.

He fell to the floor with a clattering of metal and she rose to her feet. In horror at what she had done, she raised a hand to her mouth, halting and staring at it as it transformed before her eyes. What was once a normal, human hand was now morphing into something alien. Her five fingers painfully melded into three long and bony digits as her vision split. The objects around her took on a vibrant hue as the bodies slowly turned orange. Panicking, she looked around for a mirror, anything for her to look at. Going back to the bodies, she pulled off the chest plate from one, and looked.

She screamed. Her face was boiling as it transformed into what had haunted her for years- the Skriver. She tore her gaze from the reflection and turned towards the civilians and tried to call for help, only for a series of clicks and trills to reverberate through the halls. Suddenly the place started to shake, chunks of the ceiling falling around them as the quaking grew stronger. When she looked at the civilians again, they were no longer there. In their place, were the corpses of her mother being cradled by a young child, the lieutenant she failed to save at Jos, and many, many others; their eyes staring blankly at her as their mouths forced out words she couldn't hear. Slowly, T'Lana blacked out, sighing in relief as the images faded- only to see a figure coming towards her through the blackness. Though Skriver, it was decidedly female and out stretched its arms as it beckoned her close, softly calling her name.

T'Lana's fear grew as she walked towards the figure, compelled to obey, but with each step, the figure grew more distant. Panicking and afraid of being left alone, she broke into a run, calling out, "Wait! Please, don't leave me here alone!"

The figure finally stopped, waiting for T'Lana to draw nearer before opening what seemed to be a door. As it opened, a bright white light flooded the darkness, blinding T'Lana. "Wait–!"

T'Lana gasped as she launched from the bed, knocking Collette over and falling on top of her.


End file.
